The Ultimate Game
by HidingFromTheSpotlight
Summary: The game. The ultimate game. Team Free Will versus Team Baker Street versus Team TARDIS! Kill or be killed! No way out, no way to stop it but one: destroy the other teams. Can you trust your friends? Your enemies? Your eyes? Is it real? Or just a trick? You either win the game, or lose your life. SuperWhoLock.


**HFTS: So, this is just to gauge a reaction to the idea. I won't be updating it too soon, more as a every now and then kind of thing. It's also one of three new stories I'll be working on over the holidays (though the updates will be just as sporadic as any of my other ones). But yeah... hope you enjoy it! It's based on the fanvid by Deductism (Gabriel's Game). Go watch it, it's brilliant.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, Sherlock, or Doctor Who.**

A city of ashes, barely standing on its own, left to rot. Cool, breezeless air fell heavily on the empty streets. There were no people left to stir the dust, so it gathered undisturbed, a clandestine meeting in an abandoned metropolis. It had one job, one endless purpose: to bear witness to death. But for now, something stirred in its heart. A foul wind whirled through the streets, startling the rats and cockroaches before disappearing again. Three men lay unmoving in a street that had once bore the name Prescott. Dean woke first, breathing heavily and looking around wildly, his brother's name on his lips. "Sammy? Sam?" His hands ran along Sam's tired, colourless face, down to his throat, feeling the thrumming pulse with relief. He looked over to Castiel, who was slowly blinking, and let out a sigh. "We're okay. We're okay."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Castiel said, helping Dean drag the slowly waking giant to his feet.

Dean craned his neck, trying to see what Castiel was staring at. He paled, disbelief flooding his core. It couldn't be. It was impossible. But then again, Dean had been living with impossible things since he was four. Still, there was no way he could be alive, not after facing down _Lucifer_.

"I want to play a game," a sly, slimy figure drawled from the screen that had appeared in mid-air, like something out of a Sci-Fi movie. The face splayed across it was gaunt, the skin scorched and blistered at the temples, the hair matted and dirty. Scars crisscrossed his face, some still fresh, others partially healed. But no matter what, there was no mistaking it: Gabriel had risen from the dead.

Castiel left out a soft, broken sound, almost like a moan. For a moment, he looked almost happy. Almost. Tears gathered in his eyes, quickly blinked away and replaced by fear. Even without his powers, he could tell that something was wrong. "Gabriel…"

Gabriel grinned down at Castiel, his eyes not quite focused. "Hey, baby brother! Ready to play? Though it looks like you ain't got your angel mojo to help you this time," he sang, tripping over the words in places.

"Gabriel, you son a bitch! What is this?" Dean yelled, a sense of unexplained terror crawling down his spine. "I thought we were on the same side!"

Gabriel didn't seem to hear him, staring at Castiel with a mixture of fascination and sadistic glee. He wavered, eyes flickering, looking as if he might faint. Eventually he turned to Dean, a snake staring down a mouse. "_This_ is the game," he growled.

"What game?" Sam asked, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen, even as a distant scraping sound began behind them.

"_The_ game. The **ultimate** game," Gabriel said, two more screens appearing beside his. One showed three men, surrounded by sand and a darkened sky. The other showed two men and a girl framed by trees, shadows across their faces. "Team Free Will," Gabriel announced with uneasy vigour, his screen disappearing to be replaced by footage of the three hunters. "Versus Team Baker Street versus Team TARDIS! Kill or be killed! No way out, no way to stop it but one: destroy the other teams. Can you trust your friends? Your enemies? Your eyes? Is it real? Or just a trick? You either win the game, or you lose your life."

"Well," Dean raised his eyebrows, glancing to Sam and Castiel. "Someone's been watching too much Saw."

Gabriel bared his teeth at Dean. "Careful, dicksnap, you don't want to make your master mad."

"Been there, done that, got the t-shirt," one of the men from the second screen said, walking forwards. He straightened his bow tie and pointed something at the screen. For a second it glowed green and emitted a shrill noise, making the screen crackle, and then he had whisked it away into the folds of his jacket. "Now, who are you and what do you want?"

"I want to play a game," Gabriel repeated. "I am Gabriel, the last archangel left on earth."

"Archangels? As in God and all of that?" the tallest of Team Baker Street scoffed. "Surely you can't-"

"Shut up, Sherlock," Gabriel snapped. "It's time to play." The screens disappeared, but the angel's voice lingered. "And Dean, how about we reacquaint you with an old _friend_?"

A shuddering howl echoed through the city, giant paws thudding towards them. Dean tensed, his insides going cold. Sam followed suit, gripping Dean's arm tightly. "Dean, don't turn around," Castiel warned.

Another howl. Closer this time. So much closer. Dean felt a puff of hot breath on the back of his neck. He gulped, a small tremble running through him. A growl tore into his memories and laid his nightmares bare, dredging up the thing's he wanted to bury. He prayed he was wrong. Prayed that the others were overreacting. But he knew that was a lie. "Run," Sam whispered, unclipping his gun. "Dean, run."

Dean's legs were moving before he even considered it, his arm tearing out of Sam's grasp. He heard the giant paws hit the ground, and Castiel grunted, colliding with the ground. Sam shot at the beast, but it was difficult to tell if his bullets had found their target, considering it was invisible and mobile. Dean's breathing was a staccato rhythm, his arms pumping at his sides. He dodged and weaved through cars and debris, hoping the creature would crash or sidetrack itself. The crunching of metal and stone told him he'd have no such luck. He had to keep running, he had to get away. Spotting a side alley, he dove into it.


End file.
